Blond Leading the Blind: Dating Secrets From A Stripper

1. Don’t get too comfortable. Or rather, do get too comfortable, but don’t let him find out just how comfortable you are. I’m not talking about clipping your toenails in front of your boo. (If you think that’s ever acceptable, you deserve to die alone. I even hide my PedEgg™ in a tampon box.) I’m referring to passing gas in front of a significant other. Strippers fart during dances all the time. All. The. Time. However, we take precautionary measures to ensure that our customers are never the wiser.

The two elements of a fart that alert people to its presence are noise and smell. Take those away and your gas is a tree falling in the woods. Make sure that you blast loud music at all times. Anything by artists with ice cream cones or ultraviolet stars on their faces will do just fine. (Songs about butts happen to have the best bass for disguising sounds emitted from butts.) You have to douse your chest region with body spray every hour on the hour. Think powerful enough to mask that spray tan barbecue sauce smell or trucker sweat (or in the least, transform it to cucumber melon trucker).

Now, when you feel that pressure in your intestine, tenderly but forcefully grab the back of your love interest’s unsuspecting head with both hands. Bury his face into your cleavage and pet his hair, while bending at the waist and pointing your butt out. Do not let go of his head until you’re confident the smell has dissipated. You can also cover his ears with your hands if necessary. Shimmy your shoulders and aggressively slap his face with your boobs while you’re at it. This will disorient him and distract his senses. Congratulations, you are now farting like an exotic dancer.

2. Dress like you’re from the Ukraine. These bitches always make the most money at the club. Take a hint from Eastern European hotties and throw everything you thought you knew about fashion out the window. Mix red and pink, wear two bras at once and buy some crotch-length pearl necklaces from Icing. Anything flashy and overtly feminine is key.

Men don’t know anything about clothes. (Look at crotchless underwear. You know who invented those? Probably not a woman. Men think that they’re neat despite the fact that they resemble earwig pinchers.) Half of them are color-blind. I’m pretty they see the same color spectrum as dogs. If we’re going to talk pets though, dress like you’re trying to impress a parakeet. Think shiny, sparkly, look-there’s-my-reflection stuff. Small bells that he can ring with his nose? Hell yes.

Your date is not going to know the difference between the designer heels that cost three champagne rooms and Wild Diva shoes. In fact, you could take the money that you’d spend on one pair of Jimmy Choos and invest in a few pairs of Wild Divas, all the thongs in the trough at Charlotte Russe, a rhinestone choker that says “BITCH”, some fake flowers for your hair, elbow length gloves, and a new wardrobe from Papaya. Now wear as many of the aforementioned things at once as physically possible. Get it, girl!

3. Complain about being fat. Seriously, men love reassuring women that they’re not fat. He may roll his eyes, but a man can tell you not to lose that booty, that you’re crazy, and that your thighs are juicy and he’ll feel as good about himself as he would after volunteering in a soup kitchen all day.

If you’re anorexic, sickly, or morbidly obese and this is not feasible, choose something else for him to reassure you over that is completely inconsequential. Act embarrassed about a broken nail or an invisible bruise. Don’t point out anything legitimate like your cystic acne. Start off all incredulous-like when he says that he still finds you attractive with only nine acrylics. Let him slowly convince you that you’re a beautiful woman. He’ll tell you all about how he doesn’t want those airbrushed models in the magazines with the ten nails that all look the same. Your relationship is only getting stronger.

4. Stop (read: mark) a cheater with glitter. Has your boyfriend been screening your calls because “he can’t get reception when he’s playing Xbox in his homie’s basement”? Cheaters won’t return your emails? You should probably just dump him. If you’re too weak or you can’t afford to get his name covered up at this juncture, fair enough. So you want the other woman to receive a message that is loud and clear but also safe and legal? Yes, you want safe and legal. Listen, buying glitter will take a lot less effort than going to this woman’s place of employment and ripping her eyelashes off.

Take the “divorce dust” (as it’s known at the strip club) and dump that shit all over your body. Don’t be frugal! Your unhealthy relationship depends on this. Turn the lights down low. Like, all the way down. You need total darkness because you’re gonna blindside the fucker. Put tinfoil on your windows if need be. Okay, now sex your jerk boyfriend. (You should probably use a condom…) Flip the lights on and voilà! He can shower all he wants to, but glitter will be in his eyebrows, nose pores, belly button, ass crack, nail beds, gums, etc for at least a month. You’re welcome.

Next time: How to date someone without revealing any personal information whatsoever, and how to nab a man by lying about being an American Apparel model.

Kat has been stripping since 2003 and blogging about it since 2009. She works at a club next to the Chips Ahoy factory. Sometimes it smells like cookies but usually it just smells like cheap body spray. She doesn't think it's very funny to make fun of deceased prostitutes and doesn't see why you can't just stick with a good old-fashioned dick joke. You can find her on twitter. You may send mail to katstories [at] gmail.com but she must insist that you don't send her any form of poetry whatsoever.

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[…] I guess I’d tell you not to do the moves that precede a good queef? Or follow Kat’s advice on what to do when you’re gassy at work. You could make it a specialty, though! Just act like you meant to do it. Use eyelash glue to stick […]

YES. I am guilty of letting those beer + pizza night farts rip on stage. We’ve got a catwalk between two stages that is absolutely perfect for the occasions. When customers see me lighting up with real joy, they don’t actually know that I just ripped ass from one end of the catwalk to the other! Staying in motion is an excellent disguise (of both smell and sound, if the music is reasonable and the distance/perfume enough).